Mockingjay, pretty bird or elegant deadly queen?
A woman, a creature of dystopia and mythology.
If there’s one bird to be, it would be a Mockingjay,
Though I know they’re imaginary,
Mockingjays are real as symbols of courage.
Birds which don’t break, they carry on;
Nature outlasting outlandish experiments,
Reinventing, Mother Earth evolving and re-working,
What humans would call a mistake;
Yet these Jays cannot be hidden away, they’re fierce warriors risen.
As a Mockingjay, could I fly close to the sun?
Icarus (I think) burned off his majestic wings doing such a deed,
I’d think a celestial queen of Mockingjays is smarter.
She’s a stealthy bird whose whistle, repeats any tune heard,
Her mimickery can be confusing to her enemy.
A Mockingjay queen, would keep her scars hidden,
Safe beneath feathers which float, as hope;
Now fuzz, falling furiously as she grows, dropping downy —
Fast, no longer a chick adorned with puffiness.
Now a full-blown black and white glory who sings life’s story,
The story of pain, betrayal, and loss;
Your average adventure and most tantalising tale.
Oh, what a Mockingjay can truly be,
When her heads adorned by sunlight and truth,
Choosing her battles and using her melody —
The Melody you’re humming to yourself.
The sweetest songs of tears, quicksilver and liquid gold,
Molten metal glimmering.
She burns with fire in her soul, though she is no mythical Phoenix;
Yet she rises from the ashes of society and science;
She repeats your tunes, the echoes throughout her wild lands.
You’ll never catch a Mockingjay, there’s wrath in her footprints,
Her anger caused, ignites an inner flame brilliant.
She’ll swoop from above and end you below,
The dignified woman, no longer laughing,
Going to battle, her war song a trill.
The Mockingjay flies her wings fluid, her form grace designed.
A legendary bird of modern times,
Survival of the fittest crossing genetics;
Nature re-designs better than a science lab of horrors.
Mockingjay is more than bird she is the huntress,
The symbolic warrior of Ancient Greece and Rome – Artemis;
Bow with blazing pyrotechnics and lethal skill, pointed at her kill.
She lives and she dreams of the day, the war is long ended,
Where revenge and the cold stone hearted have no meaning.
Her desire is the melody so beautiful it thrills and heals,
Enraptures a soul with clearly sung words.
She’s a warrior with golden platted lashes, winged at her pray;
A sultry seductress and and goddess flying free.
Mockingbird walks, she sways, feathers flocked close,
She’s as precious as the sparrow, calling lonely for her love.
She’d scarred, her heart torn;
So strong but in need of help most of all.
Even symbols of strength such as her,
Who mimick a fictitious tune with ease;
Need more than survival to hope for.
She needs more than, a gilded bird cage.
©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.